


Lusus Naturae

by Hyalin



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Agent Jared Padalecki, Alpha Jensen, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Based on a song, Claiming Bites, Hurt Jared, Hurt Jensen, M/M, Mating Bond, Omega Jared, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Slow To Update, Sumaries are hard, Torture, Trauma, True Mates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2020-07-29 11:08:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20081209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyalin/pseuds/Hyalin
Summary: Jared knew that being a Werewolf Special Agent would not be easy, but over the years he kind of got used to it. Not all jobs were sunshines and rainbows and he saw his fair share of Werewolf trafficking, some illegal fight club that used Alphas and what not. Jared had the knowledge that he had seen all.Until his unit stumbled upon a warehouse that contained some of his most recent nightmares.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was gnawing at my brain for WEEKS until I decided that enough is enough and I started writing it. Before I even noticed, I wrote 20-ish pages and I was nowhere near finishing it. That being said, I have a good chunck ready, but I've been facing the "Writer's block wall" for the past few weeks. I'm hoping that uploading a chapter here and there will make things run smoother for me. Maybe some support from you guys could help too.
> 
> English is not my main language, so any misspells or bad grammar that you find, let me know!
> 
> Lusus Naturae means "Freak of Nature".

_ Vicious snarls and growls. He felt trapped and claustrophobic, unable to move his limbs. The smell of blood, old and new, filled his nostrils and almost made him gag. More snarls. Was he the one growling? _

_ “Dear Luna, not again…” He thought, trying to pull himself out of this nightmare. _

_ It’s not like he could see anything, really. It was more a collection of feelings and sounds, but it always ended up the same way: with him waking up scared out of his mind, screaming and with pain flaring up over his skin, as if someone aimed a blowtorch at him. Sometimes it was his fingers. Others his back. Once even the left side of his face. Either way, it always ended up with pain. _

_ He tried to stay calm, even if his skin shivered and he felt like ants crawled all over him. There was a mild pain that was growing by the minute, the same as the growling and rumbling. Then a male ear splitting howl followed by a glimpse of pain over his chest so extreme that made him ask himself  _ ** _again_ ** _ if it was possible to die from it. _

And then Jared finally wakes up. Thrashing and screaming and scratching at his chest, but the nightmare is over. The tendrils of pain and panic, not so much. The young man needs almosts ten minutes to calm down enough to get out of the bed on wobbly legs and trudge to the small kitchen for a glass of water. His hands are shaking so badly that he almost drops the glass twice.

“Fuck…” He curses, still able to smell the blood and feel the pain. After a couple of gulps of water, Jared finally looks down to his naked chest and sighs when he sees that he scratched himself bloody in his panic, scowling about his lack of self control. Checking the clock on the microwave, another sigh escapes his lips. 2:17 A.M.. Jared knows he won’t be able to go back to sleep for sure, so that means a fun night watching mindless TV, anticipate some work reports or try to write his nightmare down on his journal.

Jared decides that mindless TV is what he needs right now, even if Gen would probably disagree. His best friend was the one that came up with the idea of keeping journals about his nightmares after two months of having them. It doesn’t happen every night, he even got two weeks of blessed rest once, but it’s an ongoing issue for almost one and a half year now. He tried therapy and even hypnosis, but nothing helped. Not even sleeping pills - and  _ that _ was a disaster. Jared shudders when he thinks about that night, unable to wake up from his nightmare when it should be over already.

He settles for a romcom, deciding that he needs a break. Jared would usually go for horror or action movies, but nor his heart or mind can take the violence anymore, not tonight.

The movie isn’t half bad and if Jared was in the right mindset he would probably laugh a little, but he’s anxious and jumpy, not paying full attention to the storyline or the actors. When he’s about to change channels, his cellphone rings by his side, almost giving him a heart attack. Looking at the caller ID - of course is Chad, no one else would call him at three in the fucking morning, for fucks sake - he sighs. If this is another call to get his drunk best friend from some bar or whatever, he’s going to be royally mad.

“What?” Jared doesn’t mean to snap, but he’s on edge for quite some time already - probably even before the nightmare.

Chad, at least, does not sound drunk. “Geez, Jayman, good night to you too. I ain’t more happy to be up at this time either,” The blonde replies annoyed.

Jared sighs and pinches de bridge of his nose. “Sorry, man, jus’... One of those nights, ya know?”

His best friend stays silent for a moment and Jared can hear him sigh. “How bad?”

The younger man thinks for a second and shrugs, even if Chad can’t see him. “Had worse. Doesn’t matter,” He leans forward, frowning. “Why are you calling me?”

“Oh yeah!” Chad clears his throat, a little uncomfortable. “The Bureau just called me. We have a case and we need the  _ WSU _ to assist.”

Usually Chad would be more than happy to have Jared working with him on a case, but the blonde seems somber, almost professional. And this makes Jared shiver.

He met Chad almost five years ago when the  _ WSU _ \-  _ Were Special Unit _ \- was called about an underground fighting club that used Weres to fight. It was not a pretty case, with a dozen of kidnapped Omegas that were being used as bait when they had their heats and almost twenty Alphas to fight for the prize. Chad was a junior FBI agent at the time and Jared had recently joined the  _ WSU _ primarily as a consultant, since he was an Omega and still in training, but he was already trying to get his gun and badge as soon as possible. And the only reason they allowed an Omega at all in the unit was because Jared didn’t fit the mold.

Tall and muscular instead of tiny and lean, he could easily be mistaken for an Alpha. True, he still had his innate desire to care and protect as all Omegas had, but that only made him a more valuable asset when dealing with abused Weres, more especially Omegas. But still he was no Alpha, so field work was very rare in his career.

“That bad?” If they need both FBI and  _ WSU _ together, this thing, whatever it was, it’s big.

Chad huffs. “I don’t know, just got a call myself. They just asked me to call you and Gen since we’re friends and all and texted me the location. They also said nothing has been touched and it is definitely something you guys want to see for yourself. No details, but Morgan sounded… Anxious,” He seems more worried than anything, and is such a non-Chad attitude. “He only told me for you guys to bring those scent blockers masks.”

‘ _ Probably drugs involved _ ,’ Jared thinks. Weres have a sharp sense of smell - the same goes for hearing and sight -, so it makes sense to bring masks.

“Can you give a call to Gen? I know she is not the most morning person and I don’t need any more yelling for now,” Chad grumbles and the Omega winces slightly, knowing that he’s partly at fault for snapping at his friend.

“Yeah, sure,” Jared complies.

The FBI agent lets a sigh escape on the other side of the line. “Okay, great. I uh… I’ll text you the address. Or, in this case, the GPS location”

It’s going to be a long night, for sure.


	2. Chapter 2

Jared ends up giving Genevieve a ride, his fellow Omega colleague not too happy about having to work at such early hour on Sunday, but hey, comes with this line of work. Genevieve is a tiny pretty Omega who works at  _ WSU _ as the team psychiatrist and overall doctor. They have been friends since the first day, after all, they’re the only Omegas that were accepted in the agency at the time.

They ride in silence, Gen barely awake and mumbling unintelligible things under her breath for the first ten minutes. After half an hour, the asphalt was long gone already, only the dirt road in front of them and nothing else to see besides trees and grass fields. Jared keeps checking his phone attached to the car’s panel to check if he’s going in the right direction. The last portion of the ride is even off-road.

“Well, someone wanted this place to stay well hidden,” Gen comments when she sees the warehouse, dozens of vehicles - FBI’s and  _ WSU _ SUVs, the local Austin police and even one ambulance parked around the perimeter - already there. Jared only hums in agreement.

The moment they open the door, the scent of blood and rotten flesh is so strong that Genevieve almost keels over, one hand firmly on the hood of Jared’s truck. “Dear Luna, is this another fighting scheme?” She gags a little and Jared hasten to grab the masks under the backseats, circling the truck to give his fellow Omega her mask.

They both need a couple of moments to breath the clean air the masks provide before approaching the ruckus. There’s not only one, but three FBI agents leaning against the wall, retching and gagging and washing their mouths with water. Jared has a really bad feeling about this, especially when he sees Jim Beaver leaving the place with a troubled expression.

The older Alpha is his mentor and the head of the  _ WSU _ Austin branch. Despite being an Alpha and having decades of years of experience on top of multiple closed cases, he doesn’t do field work anymore. The only reason Jim’s not retired is because he still hasn’t found something to do after he turns his gun and badge. Weres live way longer than humans, can work for longer periods of times and they get bored very easily if they don’t find something to keep their minds occupied. City Weres, at least. Pack Weres have a whole different dynamic and they can use dozens of acres of pack lands to just run and burn some energy if they feel like it.

“Alpha, are you alright?” Genevieve is the first to ask, concern evident in her voice and eyes. Now that they are closer, Jared can see Beaver’s ashen cheeks behind the mask, wet forehead and hands trembling slightly. Jared has never seen the Alpha looking so frazzled or bothered before.

“I…” He starts, cleans his throat and shakes his head. “In all my years, I’ve never seen anything like that before,” Jim’s voice is somber, cracking a little bit. “It’s a fucking mess. If you two want to back out, you should do it now,” The Alpha’s eyes travel back to the warehouse door. “Hell, I suggest you to turn tail right away. This… Is the thing for nightmares,” The Alpha pinches the bridge of his nose before whipping out his cellphone and walking away, probably to make some calls to the  _ WSU _ director.

Both Omegas look at each other but before they can enter the warehouse, a maroon sedan pulls up. Jared recognizes the car and he’s relieved that Chad finally got here. The blonde FBI agent waves when he sees them after getting out of the car, approaching them after some quick strides. His friend isn’t look so good either, a little green around the eyes.

“This place fucking stinks!” Chad groans, putting his closed fist near his mouth. “You wouldn’t have one of these laying around, would ya?” The blonde muses, pointing to their masks.

Jared cracks a tiny smile at that. “Sorry,”

Chad looks over his shoulder to the warehouse door and bobs his head in that direction. “What’s the verdict?”

Genevieve huffs and rolls her eyes. “We just got here ourselves, but…” The Omega looks back to Alpha Beaver, annoyed expression falling and brows furrowing. “It seems pretty bad. Alpha Beaver is very shaken about whatever it is that they found inside.”

The young FBI agent scratches the back of his head, a little frustrated. “Yeah, Morgan also seemed disturbed when he called me. He was one of the firsts on scene before driving the perp back to the office for interrogation.”

Jared’s eyes widen. “One guy?” The Omega feels his stomach churn imagining what kind of sick bastard could be responsible for all that foul smell.

“You sure he worked alone?” Genevieve asks, just as distraught as Jared.

“Morgan seems pretty sure about it, but we’re all here to make sure this is all the work of one psycho instead of a whole group, so let’s get started,” Chad walks to the door, pulling it open. “After you,” He gestures to Jared, but the tiny grin turns into a grimace. “Jesus fucking Christ, the smell!”

Both Weres were never more happy to have those masks on.

The door leads to a very long corridor, but instead of other doors, there are tall walls and metal gates from one side to the other. It almost looks like a prison. The small room to the left has cleaning supplies, a big wheelbarrow, some shovels and a heavy jumpsuit while the first cage to their right is empty except for a pool of dry blood, but it’s still well lighted with industrial light bulbs, making Jared and Genevieve squint because of the harsh lighting.

“Jesus…” Chad mumbles and both Jared and Genevieve averts their eyes from the first cell to see what got his friend sounding so… Astonished.

When Jared and Genevieve approaches the young FBI agent, they understand. Jim was never more right about this being a nightmare.

Inside the next cage there’s two dead Werewolves huddled together in the corner with missing chunks of flesh all over their bodies. Jared’s best guess is that they mauled themselves to death. He had seen something like this once during the underground fight rink years ago, but it doesn’t make the situation any easier. The other cages dead residents, even less.

To their right, the single Werewolf was sprawled in a pool of blood, no fingers in his right hand and left arm completely missing. The other cages were in pretty much the same state, one or two Werewolves with gashes and missing body parts. One of them was a young were with longish brown hair without an eye and Jared almost hurls at the sight, because the young male with an empty socket also had his torso shredded open, guts almost spilling on the floor.

The scenery is almost the same in all the cages, splashes of blood and ribbons of flesh here and there, a gruesome view altogether that neither of them can quite shake it. That horrific sight is probably imprinted in their brains forever.

Genevieve whimpers and puts both her hands over her mouth, gagging and retching. Jared grabs and holds her close against his chest, big hands rubbing soothingly on the Omega’s back. Chad is not faring any better, but he can throw up whenever he wants - he wouldn’t be the first, if the two puddles of vomit they passed were any indication. His fellow Omega would have to take the mask off first and Jared knows she would pass out from the smell - or would keep retching and puking without stopping before passing out.

“Maybe you should wait outside, Gen,” Jared whispers, still trying to shield the petite woman from the gruesome scene.

The male Omega feels Genevieve breathing deeply twice before shaking her head, stepping back from his embrace. “No, I can-I can do this,” She swallows, rubbing her dark eyes with the back of her hand, clearly drying her tears.

Jared can’t blame her, he knows that he’s a little tear eyed himself, but they have work to do, so he lets Genevieve recompose herself before moving forward again.

There’s two of his fellow Alpha colleagues on the end of the corridor, both looking up at something. Jared swallows thickly when he sees arms hanging on a hook with chains, but he still can’t see the last victim, Tom and Stephen blocking his vision. When he finally approaches them, his hazel eyes widen, Gen gasps and Chad curses.   
  
“Dear God, what happened to him?” Chad mumbles, just as astonished as his fellow Were companions.

The man has scars all over his naked body, some of them long and thin, others small and wide. One of them starts from his hairline on the right side of his face and passes through his eye, ending on top of his lush lip. His right pinky and middle finger are missing and the left index was cut to the first knuckle while the nails were all ripped off from both his hands and feet. His shoulders are also clearly dislocated and his right foot is in such a wrong angle that it creeps Jared out imagining how the hell they broke this man’s foot like that, probably even beyond repair.

But what makes Jared sucks in a breath is the large gash going from the left shoulder to his right hip, blood still dripping wet on the white floor. He was alive when they cut him open like that and Jared can’t even imagine the sheer pain this man went through.

Tom is the first to break the silence, clearing his throat. “Jim was right. This is fucked up,” His voice breaks a little in the end. Stephen silently agrees with his head.

After almost one minute, they finally decide to enter the cage, Genevieve staying behind with Chad, who is there to make her company. The petite Omega is shaking so badly that the FBI agent is seriously considering on taking her out of the building.

The three other Werewolves go near the hanged man to look him more closely. There’s red burning marks all over him and Jared’s mind supplies him with the answer: silver burns. The young Omega winces when he sees the raw flesh on the man’s wrists, the chains also probably using some silver to keep him tamed. Whoever was the psychopath who hurt all those Werewolves, he wasn’t stupid. This Werewolf has broad shoulders and, even with clear signs of starvation and dehydration, he’s strong, muscled arms and thighs a little lean with lack of proper food, but Jared can still see the amazing Wolf that was inside this poor guy. Which is weird. All the other dead Weres seemed to appear smaller, Death making them look defeated and tiny. But this man looks like someone who would call Death for another round, his sheer presence alone making Jared gulp.

His backside isn’t much better than the front, gashes in multiple states of healing, some even infected. There’s bite and claw marks, knife wounds and whip gashes all over him. Jared needs to gather his resolve to not reach out and touch this man, but the whimper is impossible to contain.

And even with all that blood and bruises, the man was beautiful. Jared can’t point his hair color, the tresses dull and dirty with sweat, blood and a little longish with the lack of care, but his face is sharp, strong jaw and plush lips. The Alpha also has a very fair skin under the gashes and bruises and the Omega winces when he imagines when was the last time this poor soul saw the sun.

After some more assessing, Tom stops in front of the man, biting his bottom lip. “How the hell that lunatic was able to grab this one is beyond me.”   
  
Stephen hums and looks around, trying to find something to serve as a stool so he can unhook the Were. There’s a bucket full of instruments, like pliers and knifes, in the corner of the cage. “Hold on a sec, let’s get him down,” The Alpha takes the bucket, turning it’s contents on the ground and goes back to the hanging man. He turns the bucket upside down, using it as leverage so he can reach the chains and hook, looking down at his colleagues. “You’ll have to lift him a little so I can unhook him.”

Tom makes a face for a second, getting close to the man’s front. He clearly doesn’t know where to put his hands with all the mayhem that happened to the poor Were, so he settles for putting them both on the man’s hips. Tom’s hands slip a little on the blood, but he only tightens them more. “Man, he’s still a little warm. Poor guy almost made it,” Tom shakes his head. “Okay, I think I got him. Jaybird?”

Jared nods, puts his hands on the Were’s ribs and feels them give a little, probably terribly broken. The Omega also feels something else for a moment, like a faint beating heart, but it’s probably just wishful thinking. The guy went through a lot already, no way he would still be alive. But then, there it is again! A slow beating under his index finger. Hazel eyes widen and Jared is about to shout that the man is alive when the words die in his throat. There’s a single feral green eye looking at him over the Were’s shoulder, plush lips twisted in a mute snarl. And Jared is terrified, because despite his mind knowing that he is looking at a broken and mauled man, his inner wolf supplies him with a vision of a fearsome beast.

“LOOK OUT!” Chad was the one screaming and everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

With a howl that the Omega was unconsciously very familiar with, the Were headbutted Jared on the nose and closed his thighs around Tom’s neck, squeezing the life out of his colleague. Chad and Stephen were pulling their guns on the man while Genevieve screamed for them to stop.

And Jared?

Jared had never seen something this battered and broken being so magnificent.


	3. Chapter 3

_ Gnarled and mangled _

_ Warped deformed _

_ They see nightmares _

_ A mutant swarm _

_ I see beauty _

_ Underneath _

_ I see promise _

_ In nature's freak _

Jared, Chad, Jim and Morgan are all observing the scrawny dark haired man through the one-way mirror. He seems pretty calm, almost casual while looking for dirt - or blood - under his fingernails, cuffed hands on the table not allowing for much movement. The bastard even had blood on his shoes when he was arrested, and now he taps his socked clad feet on the floor following some silent song. He scratches distractedly his short grizzled beard, cleaning his teeth with his tongue and Jared wants nothing more than to rip that bastard’s throat out. He’s clearly not the only one if Jim’s closed fists are anything to go by.

Chad is the one to break the silence. “What is taking her so long?” He huffs, crossing his arms.

As if on cue, a small redhead woman opens the door, holding files against her chest. Felicia Day is usually bubbly, happy and so chatty, but it appears that even this sick and twisted case got to her. “Sorry, sorry, it was just… So much to search for,” She arranges her glasses better on top of her nose. “Wanted to make sure nothing got past me, not this time,” The computer tech is somber and Jared has never seen her like that before. No one has. She delivers the files to Jeffrey, looks once at the man bound to the table and shudders before going away without another word.

Agent Morgan gives one copy to Alpha Jim and both their protégés step closer to read all the information Felicia gathered about the man over their shoulders. Jared almost, _ almost _ feels sorry for him.

Christopher Heyerdahl, 55 years old, retired military doctor. Wife died almost fifteen years ago of breast cancer, leaving him, a 17 year old son and a 19 year old daughter. Two years later, the daughter killed herself when her _ werewolf _ fiancé broke things off when he met his true mate. Five years later, the son is killed in action in Afghanistan. The man retired the same year after a terrible depression. He was heavily medicated and was admitted to a hospital once after being run over. Notes said that the doctors considered it an attempted suicide, but nothing came out of it. After that, he completely drained all of his life savings and went dark. Felicia’s notes said that she was still working on it, but they all knew that Heyerdahl was probably working with cash so he could not be traced.

“Well, ain’t him a piece of work?” Jim mumbles, scratching his balding head. Jared only hums in agreement.

When Morgan closes his file, he looks at both Weres. “Shall we begin?”

The older Alpha shakes his head and purses his lips. “I think it would be best if I sit this one out,” Beaver looks at the man and Jared can swear he sees a faint golden hue in his boss’ irises. “If I go in there, he probably won’t get out alive.”

Jared can easily relate. Even if he was an Omega and therefore not prone to violent actions, the scene in that warehouse is going to haunt him for life. He has no sympathy for the kinds of Heyerdahl.

Even so, Morgan looks at him expectantly. “Agent Padalecki?”

The younger man shrugs. “Can’t say I disagree with my boss. I’ll sit this one out too, but we’ll watch as long as we can.”

Chad and Jeffrey look at each other, but decide that is probably for the best. Morgan can’t say he wouldn’t be happy with some Were knowledge on his side, but he can understand his old friend motives. That warehouse was filled with Werewolves, true, but in his eyes they were just as human as he and his colleagues are. Morgan wants to twist that psycho neck just as bad, but he doesn’t have an inner wolf that makes that desire almost uncontrollable.

When they open the door to the interrogation room, Heyerdahl doesn’t even flinch or show any interest. “I was wondering how much longer I would be here...” His nasal tone is dismissive.

Chad scoffs. “You’re never going to see daylight again, so you might as well get used to it,” The younger agent doesn’t sit, staying back and leaning against the one-way mirror, but Morgan takes one of the chairs to get comfortable.

The senior agent flips the file open, dozens of horrible photos and forensics reports to go through, the coroner only having the time to finish the autopsy in two Werewolves, the two that mauled themselves to death. Heyerdahl looks at the photos with something close to pride in his dark eyes and Morgan’s desire of twisting this man’s neck comes back full force.

“You don’t seem fazed with this,” Morgan says with a flat tone.

Christopher shrugs nonchalantly. “And why would I? It’s not like you expect me to confess, do you? You _ know _ that I’m guilty,” He leans back on the chair, putting his hands on his belly as much as the shackles allow it. “I mean, I could, though. I did it. Are we done now?” Heyerdahl staples his fingers and waits, grinning smugly.

The blonde agent purses his lips and he’s about two steps of choking the smug grin out of Heyerdahl’s face, but Morgan asks another question, voice low and dangerous. “Actually we want to know _ why _ you did it.”

“Oh, isn’t it one of the life’s greatest mysteries?” Christopher chuckles, stretching his legs with a grunt. After that, the man straightens his posture, dark face and cold eyes. “I did it because I _ can _.”

_ A mystery of blood and bone _

_ Soulless, origin unknown _

_ Twisted devil villains lost in time _

_ Mindless born of bubbling ooze _

_ Intelligence I will infuse _

_ A curse upon the world but now you're mine _

Jared gulps when he sees Heyerdahl’s demeanor change, shuddering with how casually he said how he tortured and killed all those Werewolves because he could. Jim growls at his side and the Omega knows that the Alpha’s inner wolf is raising his hackles. His inner wolf is raising it too, but more out of fear than rage like Beaver. Christopher Heyerdahl is not human.

Morgan looks unfazed, but both Werewolves can see how tense the FBI agent is right now. “Care to elaborate?” The senior agent mimics Heyerdahl and staples his fingers together too.

The man sighs deeply, as if he was dealing with children. “Have you ever wondered how much humanity could evolve if we had the best of wolves, but kept our individuality, without being bound by the inner wolf or Pack rules?” He asks slowly. “Werewolves can’t have cancer. They outlive our kind by dozens of years. STDs are no threat to them. They can heal twice as faster, although I’m still working on the regen side of things,” Heyerdahl enumerates with his fingers, not blinking once. “And their only great weakness is silver. Wars could have been avoided or ended with Werewolves soldiers.”

Chad squints his eyes. “It’s not their war.”

Heyerdahl’s eyes widen in mock surprise. “Well, then what are they doing in America? Or Iraq? Or Russia? Or whatever country they chose to build their pack on? They want their piece of land but can’t fight for it?” He sneers. “That seems very unfair.”

Jeffrey frowns, asking himself if this guy is as delusional as he sounds. “They were here before us.”

“And they’ll be here after us too, if things keep going like this,” Christopher opens his hands wide. “Don’t you see, Agent? All I was trying to do was for humanity!”

“By torturing and killing innocent Werewolves?!” Chad strides forward, slamming his hands on the table. Heyerdahl is not even fazed.

“And why, pray tell, would you think they are innocent, Agent?” The man leans back again. “If I’m not mistaken, a couple of centuries ago, Werewolves were feared by us, simple humans. The Little Red Riding Hood, The Three Little Pigs… Today they are fairy tales, but back then it was warnings for us to not meddle with the Wolves. We were hunted like animals and oh, isn’t that ironic?! Until, of course, we learned about silver…” Heyerdahl trails off, eyes far away. “Then we started fighting back. Silver knives, silver arrows, silver bullets… They had to back down and ask for a truce. We should never have accepted.”

Jared is flabbergasted with this monster’s claims. “He’s totally delusional.”

Beaver grunts and nods. “Of course he would leave the fact that humans were trying to have our Packlands centuries ago,” The older agent frowns. “Can’t deny our ancestors were a little more savage then, but still…”

“It’s not an excuse,” Jared finishes for him and the senior _ WSU _ agent agrees.

“So, you thought it was okay to torture and kill them?” Chad snarls, fists close on top of the table.

Once again the man feigns surprise. “Torture and kill? Oh, no, that was never my intention, agent. I was _ enhancing _ them.”

Morgan is the one confused now. “Come again?”

“Oh please, are you even listening?” He rolls his eyes before rubbing his face and letting out a heavy sigh of patience. “Have you ever imagined how many times we could’ve avoided bloodshed on our parts during battles? Tell me, Agent Morgan, how many of your men died because of… Lets say, one bullet? And I’m not even saying a headshot or major organ injury. I’m saying, maybe shoulder or gut wound, hmm?” Heyerdahl lets his question sink for a moment before continuing. “Now how many Weres do you know that were shot twice, three or even more times and are fine and dandy today? Or were stabbed or fell off a high height and ended up fine whereas your men would be totally dead or at least disabled for life?

Not to mention their high sense of smell, sight, hearing! Have you ever imagined that used on the battlefield? Being able to detect enemies without needing to rely on machines that can be hacked or tricked?!” Now Heyerdahl looks even more insane than the laidback cold blooded murderer that was with them a couple of minutes ago. “They only need to overcome one simple weakness: silver. And then, they would be unstoppable soldiers!”

His last statement is faced with silence. Morgan is rendered speechless and for once Chad doesn’t know what to say too. Jared and Beaver are also stunned with that madman’s rant, not knowing what lead him to this conclusion. Luckily Chad is the one to voice his doubts.

“But that wouldn’t just make them more prone to outlive us?” The blonde asks slowly, still trying to catch up to Heyerdahl’s mad rants.

Christopher just laughs. “Not if they serve us. As humans, our numbers are so superior to Werewolves! Their Packs have hundreds, our cities have thousands, sometimes millions! It’s high time they know their place in the food chain.”

Beaver struggles to say something. “Is he… Is he serious?”

Jared can’t say for sure.

Morgan is scared to ask, but it is his job and he bites the bait. “And how would you do that?”

_ I will raise you up _

_ Design the perfect beast _

_ Elevate the savage _

_ Use you to bring peace _

  
The slow and smug smile that spreads through Heyerdahl’s thin lips is startling. “By breaking them until they know better. Obey or die.”

There is another stunned silence all around, everyone trying to wrap their heads around what they just heard. Jared remembers the chained Werewolf that was still barely alive and imagines all the torture he must’ve sustained to the point of lashing out against his own kind with the last of his strength. Tom was lucky to come off that encounter with a heavily bruised neck. He shivers when he thinks about how long that man survived.

They eventually tune out the interrogation when Beaver’s phone rings, a classic ringtone cutting their silence. “Beaver,” He answers, averting his gaze from Heyerdahl and his mad rants. Jared can clearly hear Stephen saying that they found a lot of journals regarding the “research” that Christopher was doing and that they were already in route to the _ WSU _ as they spoke. “Okay, ask for Dr. Collins and Genevieve’s help. I’ll send Jared soon to help sorting things out with what was done to those poor Weres,” The senior Agent nods once and bids his goodbye to Stephen before looking at Jared, who blinks twice without saying anything. “Well, boy, that’s your queue to leave.”

Jared spares a glance at Heyerdahl once before looking at his boss. “You sure?”

“I’m positive,” Beaver looks at the man in the interrogation room with a dark expression. “In my opinion, death would be too quick and too kind for the likes of him. I won’t kill Heyerdahl, trust me.”

The Omega wishes he had the same iron will of his boss, but he realizes that even if Beaver is acting cool as a cucumber, the Alpha’s inner wolf must be clamoring for bloody justice just like his own wolf. One last glance to Heyerdahl is the last thing he does before Jared nods mutely and leaves the back room, walking on auto pilot to the Bureau’s garage.

While Jared drives to the _ WSU _ headquarters, he keeps thinking about what is worse: hearing Heyerdahl spew his hate and violence against his kind or read what is going to be some detailed nightmare material on the man’s journals. The Omega’s heart squeezes when he thinks about what he is going to read about the single living Werewolf that was saved.

Jared can’t shake the churning in his gut when he thinks about the green eyed Alpha - he doesn’t know for sure if the man is Beta or Alpha, but that level of power and aggressiveness screams Alpha all over - and all the torture that he went through, but the Omega knows deep inside that he’ll overcome whatever Heyerdahl did to him.

At least Jared hopes and prays to Luna that he does.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the late update, last weeks have been hectic and I was suffering from writer's block to top it off. I'll give you guys a head's up that the next chapter may take more time to write, so... Apologies in advance!

The mood inside the conference room is dark and gloomy. There is a pile of files and journals across the table and more inside boxes and more boxes stacked in the corner, all of them with various “Experiment” numbers. Jared looks at the boxes for a long time, mourning all of the Werewolves that were degraded to simple numbers. He wonders which one is the green eyed man, but doesn’t know if he really  _ really _ wants to know what was done to him in details.

There is also coffee, a lot of coffee, on top of the table, everyone reading nonstop to figure out what was Heyerdahl’s endgame or if the madman was working alone. Dr. Misha Collins seems a little appalled by what he’s reading, Genevieve’s frown shows how much she’s struggling to keep herself together and both Stephen and Mike Rosenbaum, an FBI agent who works with Chad and a good friend of  _ WSU _ altogether, look a little green around the eyes. Jared is in no rush to read all of those journals.

“Hey,” Jared greets them quietly, sitting and looking at the journal that he picked up on top of the pile in front of him like it would bite his hand off. He clears his throat. “Where’s Tom? Is he okay?” The Omega knows he is stalling, but he can’t avoid it.

Misha nods, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands. “Yeah, I sent him home after some X-rays to make sure nothing was broken. He was damn lucky,” The Beta grumbles. “A little more force and that Alpha would’ve snapped Welling’s neck like a twig. As it is, it’s just really swollen and bruised. A couple of hours of rest and he should be fine tomorrow mor...” Misha trails off and checks his watch. “Today’s afternoon,” He corrects himself.

Jared was right, the man  _ is _ an Alpha. “How is he holding up? Has he awakened yet?”

Genevieve scowls. “Yeah, once. He almost snapped Misha’s neck too if he wasn’t handcuffed to the bed.”

The Omega is taken aback with what he hears. “You handcuffed him to the bed?!”

“After what he did to Tom, I didn’t want to take any chances, man,” Stephen pipes in, closing the journal that he just finished. “And I’m glad I did. That wolf, so far, has gone completely feral,” The handsome young man shakes his head, rubbing his face. “Not that I can blame him.”

“Ok, enough about the Alpha, I  _ need _ his file or journal!” Misha snaps, almost throwing the file he was reading back to the original box. “Otherwise I don’t know how to completely help him! There’s only so much I can do for him physically, I need to know what was done to him,” The Beta deflates a little, hiding his face with both hands. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you, is just… Those files…” The words are accompanied with a heavy sigh.

“It’s okay, Mish, we understand,” Genevieve soothes the man with a hand on his shoulder before giving him a tentative smile. “It’s early now, the bakery is probably open. How about some good coffee and goodies instead of that black sludge we have in the kitchen?” She offers and Misha almost moans when he thinks about good coffee.

“Yeah, that would be great.”

“It’s settled then,” Mike gets up and grabs his coat that was hanging on the back of the chair. “I’ll go with you to help carry all of the stuff. If I read one more page my eyes will cross and I’m going to have nightmares for weeks to come as it is.”

When Mike and Genevieve leave, everyone gets back to the files, so Jared has no other option besides opening the journal he chose and start reading. Is going to be a loooong week.

_ They don't know _

_ They don't understand _

_ There's a goal _

_ It's my master plan _

_ These simple minded fools just see my plans abstruse _

_ I'll give the monster's life a use _

Jared wishes that Heyerdahl had started as all scientists do (even if it is a fucked up thought): with small and simple tests. But that monster simply went all out. The journal he’s reading has extensive details about how Werewolves can’t regenerate as humans think they do and Heyerdahl made a point of proving this by dissecting them to take out this or that organ and see how many days the Werewolf could survive. Obviously most didn’t make the first hour, let alone one entire day. Heyerdahl did discover that Werewolves are very similar to Humans and can live without one kidney or the appendix, for example. Still, since that wasn’t a medical facility, most Werewolves got serious infections and died after a couple of weeks. Some even lived almost a whole month while the madman kept every detail written on that journal, like their suffering was something to take note for the  _ enhancing of the human race _ .

He feels sick by the end of it, but knows that he has a job to do. The others already had read three or four journals when he got there, so he can’t even imagine what kind of nightmares they’ll have. Wait, he  _ does know _ how they feel because for the past year or so he’s having vivid nightmares about the stuff on those papers. Granted, maybe not something like organ removal, but still... 

Jared shakes his head and takes the next journal. Heyerdahl still tries to see if Werewolves have some kind of regeneration, but this time nothing internal. And this time he also starts small. Fingers chopped off, hands, forearms and only then entire limbs. The details makes his stomach churn and Jared has to take a break to breath, taking advantage of the fact that Genevieve just got there with coffee and cinnamon rolls. The only ones that actually eat are Stephen and Genevieve, probably because the last time they ate was half a day ago. Jared should eat too, but after what Heyerdahl said and what he read, the Omega is really not hungry.

After some coffee, Jared goes back to reading the journal. Heyerdahl did discover that Werewolves nails and teeth grew back, therefore he had no qualms about ripping the nails off every once in a while and knocking some teeth out to show some dominance. Besides the safety reason, Heyerdahl also used this as torture to subdue them. Jared can’t help his tongue passing through his teeth, shivering for a moment.

Things don’t get better with each journal and file. The journals usually had detailed information about the “side effects” of removing this organ or how different the infection was from humans, while the files were about specific Werewolves. Jared chose to work on those now instead of going through the hellish journals.

The first one is thin. A female Alpha from Dallas, with her picture - strapped to a table and snarling -, height and weight, blood type, etc. Heyerdahl picked her up at a bar at the town’s outskirts and dosed her with a dose of anesthetic high enough to put a horse down. She still put enough of a fight to scratch him bloody and there’s notes to increase the dosage next time for Alpha Werewolves. She’s clearly not the first victim because of the anesthesia notes, but she was the first Alpha that Heyerdahl caught. Cause of death was massive shock after he removed her liver to see how well she could cope without it or if she was able to regenerate it. The last notes were “ **As seen in others subjects, being Alpha, Beta or Omega does not change the fact that the liver cannot regenerate, or the subject is able to live without it.** ”

There’s other files very similar like that. Werewolves being used as guinea pigs, having organs or major body parts removed and dying shortly after. Nothing more than two or three pages about them, but Jared scribbles all the information to pass over to Osric, the young Beta who was the  _ WSU _ Technical Analyst. With that, they may have some luck in finding who these Werewolves were and if there was any pack or mate looking for them. Genevieve every once in a while gathers all the info they have and goes out of the room, probably going to see Osric. She needs more than one break with all that shit that they’re reading and Jared doesn’t blame her.

After three or four files almost identical, Jared stumbles upon a thicker file with the information of two Werewolves this time. Both Alphas, one picked up at his own home in Houston and the other at another bar in Fort Worth. This time Heyerdahl didn’t bother with organ or body parts removal. According to the notes, the Werewolves were carefully chosen to see how well they could follow commands. Everytime they failed to do simple commands - sit, stay, bite - Heyerdahl would whip them and spray the wounds with water mixed with liquid silver. If they were more than stubborn, Heyerdahl would carve their skins with silver knives until they knew better.

They never learned (Alphas could be  _ that _ stubborn) and ended up dying because of silver poisoning.

_ Awaken my brood _

_ Today you will rise _

_ I've given you life _

_ My lusus naturae _

_ Open your eyes _

“That seems different,” It’s Misha’s voice, right over his shoulder and Jared almost jumps out of his skin.

“Are you trying to give me a fucking heart attack?!” The Omega hisses, closing the file. Jared can feel the eyes of his colleagues on him, but he chooses to look at the team doctor, waiting for an explanation.

Misha only raises his hands. “No, of course not, I’m sorry,” He seems sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just… That’s the thickest file I’ve seen so far. Any info about our mystery Alpha?”

Jared only sighs and shakes his head. “No, just two poor Alphas going through some twisted obedience training.”

Misha hums for a moment, eyeing the file for a moment before squinting his eyes. A beat or two later, he springs from his seat, going to the other boxes and shaking his head. “I’m so stupid!”

They’re all a little taken aback by that. “Misha?” Stephen calls with confusion lacing his voice.

“That Alpha, he sustained a lot of damage,” The doctor mutters, skimming through the files in one box before going to the other one. “And during a long time, months probably. His file may be the thickest one among these,” One pause and then. “A-ha!” Misha pulls a thick binder and looks through the first pages before walking out of the conference room in a brisk pace, shouting. “I’ll be at the clinic if you need me!”

There’s a long silence before Mike breaks it. “Huh, is that a good thing or not?”

They can only shrug as answer, because they’re all probably thinking the same thing: a binder that thick means a lot of torture for a single person.

* * *

Morgan feels drained by the end of the interrogation, Murray faring not much better than him and that’s the first time the senior Agent has seen the young man so… Blank. Even Beaver, who didn’t actively participated in the questioning, seems to be having problems digesting all that was said and heard.

His cellphone rings and brings Jeff out of his reverie, making Chad and Jim stop on their tracks to look at him. It’s Felicia’s number on the caller ID. “Morgan,” He answers a little confused.

“Hey, Jeff? I ah… Director Pellegrino is here and he wants the case files about the Heyerdahl stuff,” The redhead sounds pretty unsure over the phone and Jeffrey is on edge. What is Pellegrino doing here anyway?

“The Director is in your office?” He asks while beckoning both men to keep walking with him.

“No, I mean here in the building. He just asked for the files and told me he would wait in your office,” Felicia clears her throat before continuing. “I’m sorry, I would’ve caught you instead of calling, but there’s still so much to search for…” She trails off and Morgan can hear her tapping the keyboard nonstop on the background.

Even if she can’t see, Morgan waves her off. “Nonsense, you’re not my secretary, you didn’t even had to call me about it.”

There’s a brief pause in the background tapping. “But… Isn’t that your case?”

“It’s a big case. I’m not surprised that Pellegrino is showing interest in it,” The agent already can see said man sitting in his office head chair, looking at his knick knacks that adorn the desk. “Just make a copy of everything we have already and give it to him when he leaves. And email me what we have so far too, so I can know where to go from here,” He instructs, opening his office door.

“Sir, yes, sir!” Felicia salutes before hanging up.

“Gentlemen! Sorry for barging this soon, Morgan, but you know how the Bureau likes to handle those high profile cases,” Pellegrino smiles and rises from his seat, walking around the table to greet the other Agent.

Jeffrey would like to say that the years hadn’t been kind with Pellegrino with all the weight of being one of the youngest Directors ever, but the man is still as boyish and chirper as he was when they worked together ten years ago. His blue eyes have more wrinkles than Jeffrey remembers and his sandy hair is a little more styled than the bird’s nest that used to be, but nothing much has changed.

Morgan only shrugs while shaking Mark’s hand. “I figured sooner or later they would be sending someone from the higher ups to check this case. Just didn’t know who,” The Senior Agent smiles a little before gesturing to the other two men. “This is  _ WSU _ Director Jim Beaver and one of our own, Chad Michael Murray.”

After proper introductions and handshakes, Mark puts his hands inside his pant pockets and leans against Morgan’s desk. “Where are we at in this case?” He asks.

Chad is the one to talk first. “It’s a messy case in all senses of the word. That guy in there is a real piece of work,” The blonde shakes his head, still clearly distraught about the whole thing. He can’t avoid imagining Jared, his best friend, among the corpses, tortured and mangled to death and that makes him shudder. The case is almost personal.

“No partners or other associates?” Pellegrino seems surprised, eyebrows scrunched up together.

“Not that we’re aware of. My agents are going through his journals right now, but it may be a while until they finish that task,” Beaver scratches his beard, sighing. “Part of me wants to believe that this is all the result of one sick and twisted mind, but…”

Morgan finishes for his old friend. “The task of abducting Werewolves by yourself is not that easy, let alone a bunch of Alphas,” He muses for a moment. “He didn’t said anything about a partner, but I’m with Jim on that one. He couldn’t have done that alone. If there’s another person involved, we’ll figure it out.”

Jim clears his throat. “Speaking of which, I would like to request that Heyerdahl and everyone involved are punished by our Pack Laws.”

Chad blinks twice, confused. “Pack Laws?”

“Why’s that?” Pellegrino asks, raising his eyebrows.

“No offense, but your legal system sucks. Heyerdahl’s going to spend years in a Federal Prison before someone sticks a needle in his arm and I ain’t too happy to waste government’s time and money for that piece of work,” It’s clear that Jim wants to use more colorful words, but he wants to keep it professional. Mostly. “What he did is a crime against my kind. I think it’s better fit if he’s punished accordingly,” Beaver’s tone is flat.

Pellegrino is not impressed, but he is curious. “And who’d give him said… Punishment?”

Beaver raises his shoulders, shrugging. “Well, usually the Pack wronged is responsible for it, but considering the amount of Werewolves that we found, I don’t think only one Pack was affected. We still gonna need to identify all of the bodies and notify their families and mates first,” The Alpha scratches his beard. “I think the Werewolf that survived is a pretty good candidate to play executioner in this case, though.”

“There’s a survivor?” This information impresses Pellegrino.

“Well, last time I heard was that he was alive, at least. Our doctor is doing everything in his power to help him, but if he endured so much, I don’t think he’ll kick the bucket now.”

“If he’s still right in the head, you mean,” Chad mentions.

“Let’s just hope for the best, boy,” Beaver pats him on the shoulder.

Morgan nods with his head and looks at Pellegrino. “If you don’t have any objections about it, I’ll inform the Bureau that we’ll hand over Heyerdahl and everyone involved to the  _ WSU _ when this is over.”

The older man only raises his hand. “No, by all means. If it’s an open event, I would like very much to witness this Pack Trial, to be honest.” He grins and Beaver ends up grinning with him. Pellegrino offers a hand to the older Alpha. “Well, keep me posted, if you will?”

“Will do,” Beaver answers, shaking the man’s hand. “I’ll head over to the  _ WSU _ now to see what my boys have found so far and I’ll send everything to Morgan so he can pass over to you and the Bureau.”

“Don’t you ever sleep?” Morgan jokes, shaking his friend’s hand too. The senior agent already feels drained, being up and running for more than a day, and to be quite honest, he’s not in his twenties anymore. Beaver doesn’t seem that tired, and the man looks older than he is.

“Nah, perks of being a Were.”

Jeffrey snorts. “Yeah, sure. Tell agent Rosenbaum to send some progress to me if you see him around the  _ WSU _ , please.”

“Will do,” The Alpha repeats himself, nodding before leaving Morgan’s office. But his lighter expression turns grim again when he thinks about all the Werewolves and pain and suffering they endured, having to fight the urge of growling for no one in particular and trying to keep his fangs in. Heyerdahl would pay for that, Jim was sure. And he would be more than happy to watch him bleed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay, writer's block and everything else! Not to mention that I got myself roped into another One-shot from another fandom that I wanted to keep it short and ended consuming almost two weeks!
> 
> Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

For the next four days, the  _ WSU _ worked nonstop to read everything that that monster did to almost a hundred Werewolves for nearly three years. The first day, they went over a third of the files, but the disturbing information made them slow down substantially. Osric Chau worked hard to discover all of the victims identities and, especially, their families, working close together with the morgue’s office and Felicia to find any piece of information that could help his search. Jim Beaver was the one that started to call Packs and families, but Genevieve stepped up and took that task under her wing. Since she was an Omega, she could comfort the victim’s loved ones better than the older Alpha.

Chad and Mike took turns in the  _ WSU _ headquarters, but it was clear that they were just as exhausted and enraged reading what was done to innocent Werewolves than the rest of the Were agents. Since Tom, Stephen and Jared were Werewolves, they didn’t tire so easily, making them work almost around the clock to read everything, but Jim forced them to take naps and breaks every two or three hours, because they were starting to get snappy and, in the old Alpha’s words, “acting like pissy idjits”.

“You go home, take a shower and have a long night of sleep, or you take naps like 5 year olds so you stop biting each other’s heads off,” Jim had barked before going to the squad room so he himself could sleep for a while.

No one slept at the same time, probably worrying about nightmares, and Jared was glad for it. He was just able to sleep on and off for a couple of minutes, so most of the time he just closed his eyes to let it rest. And everytime he did that, the Omega remembered the green-eyed Alpha, hanged and bleeding out, left to die in that warehouse. Jared doesn’t know why he keeps remembering him, but for now he does not delve too much into it, preferring to spend his waking hours focusing on the case and his ‘sleeping hours’ trying to go over all the information they’d gathered so far.

Jared knows that tonight he’s stalling his return to the conference room to keep working on the case, but he’s exhausted, really. The past few nights before this case appeared were marked by nightmares and he’s starting to get pretty moody and pissy himself - which says a lot, considering that Jared is a very laid back and easy person to live with.

He’s about to get up when there’s a soft knock on the door. Jared guesses it’s Genevieve, because the guys wouldn’t be so considerate to knock at all and he sits with a groan. The petite Omega opens the door and peeks inside, brown eyes quickly adjusting to the dark to find Jared.

“Hey, sweetie,” She greets, coming in and closing the door behind her. “How’d you sleep?”

Jared uses the heel of his hands to scrub his eyes, hunching over himself to rest his elbows on his knees. “Hey, Gen,” He yawns, shaking his head in a valiant attempt to clear off his exhaustion. “As good as I can, I guess,” Jared shrugs one shoulder. “What time is it?”

“A little after three a.m.,” Genevieve hums and sits beside him. “How about your nightmares? Chad told me you had one on the night we found the warehouse.”

He sighs and runs his hands through his chocolate locks trying to tame his bed hair, but only messing it further. “Yeah, I’ve been having them for the last couple of nights before the warehouse,” Jared admits, knowing that he can’t lie to Genevieve, because her sharp instincts will always call him on his bullshit almost instantly.

“How about now?” She presses further, making Jared frown while thinking about them.

“When I  _ do _ sleep, I don’t have them. At least it doesn’t feel like nightmares,” The Omega tries to explain, rubbing his hand on his mouth, pausing to straighten his line of thought. “It’s more like a collection of memories instead of real feelings, and I feel numbed while dreaming, like I’m underwater or something,” He sighs. “It’s hard to explain.”

The petite woman furrows his brows, thinking it through. “Huh, that’s new.”

Jared snorts and shakes his head. “Yeah, still freaks me out, though.”

“Do you want to go home, get some proper rest? I think Alpha Beaver is almost kicking everyone out already, because not even the constant breaks are helping,” She offers, holding his hand.

He squeezes her hand gently. “Nah, I’m good. Perks of being an Omega and not an Alpha full of Alpha testosterone biting everyone’s heads off,” Jared jokes, a small smile on his lips.

She chokes a laugh. “Yeah, you keep thinking that of yourself.”

“What? You’re telling me I’m being an idiot too?!” Jared pretends to be offended, bumping his shoulder on Genevieve’s, almost toppling her over.

“You gigantic asshole!” Genevieve laughs, using one hand to keep her balance. But she sobers up soon. “Alpha Beaver also wants everyone to make appointments with me to talk about the case,” When she sees Jared ready to complain, she raises her hand. “It’s mandatory. Four sessions  _ at least _ .”

“Does this count as one session?” Jared is hopeful.

The petite Omega only laughs. “No, you silly,” She gets up and shakes her head in the direction of the door. “Food’s here. Could you take some chinese to Misha? He almost hasn’t left the Alpha’s side since the poor thing got here. Misha even went with him to the hospital to set his bones straight.”

“Isn’t a little late or, in this case, early for Chinese?” Jared jokes, but frowns when everything that Genevieve said sinks in. “Wait, what? Hospital?”

“Food is food and you all need to eat,” Genevieve shrugs again and nods with her head. “The Alpha not healing at all, from what Misha told me. They had to take him to the hospital for a surgery. Or several, I don’t know. I’m a little dizzy and exhausted myself with all the information that Osric is gathering about the victims’ packs and mates,” She sighs and rubs the back of her neck. “I don’t know how many times I’ll be able to be the bearer of bad news to them…”

He feels bad for Genevieve and a little guilty himself when he thinks about what his colleague is going through. Jared thought that they’re having a hard time as it was reading through Heyerdahl’s journals, but the brunette took the shortest straw. Reading all the sick and twisted things that Heyerdahl did to his kin was tiring and revolting, but being the bearer of the news that your relative or mate was dead is bone deep exhausting. Jared had to do it once during the underground fight scheme years ago, where two abducted Alpha’s fought to death and it was something that he loathed to do ever since.

“Hey, if you need someone to talk to, you know you can count on me, right Gen?” Jared asks softly, holding the petite Omega’s hand.

She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her kind brown eyes. “Of course, Jaybird. But there’s still much to do. C’mon, I bet Misha’s starving, even if he doesn’t know it yet.”

Jared gets up with a grunt, trying to smooth his clothes a little bit, without much success. The same goes for his bed hair, but it’s all rumpled and the Omega eventually gives up. Genevieve only chuckles and smooths his hair just a little bit with her hands.

“There. Everyone is rumpled and creased already, don’t worry.”

He smiles a little. “Thanks, Gen.”

“You’re welcome. Now go, I have enough on my plate already. Don’t need to babysit you too,” She jokes and laughs when Jared shows his tongue immaturely.

* * *

The clinic is their underground facility under the  _ WSU _ parking, where they put hurt Werewolves - victims, agents and suspects - under their care. It is equipped to do some minor work, like bullet removals for example, but nothing too fancy. The elevator opens in a spacious area that is used as a waiting room, with chairs lining up the walls and the front desk is on the corridor’s right side. During the days, they have a nurse on duty to help Misha and to manage the visitations, but during the night, it’s only Misha if they have to work overtime. The hall has four doors: two to the right, one at the end and one to the left. The first door to the left is the little pharmacy, loaded with mostly supplies like gauze and plaster, but with a healthy amount of meds and equipment if ever the occasion called for it. The other door is Misha’s bunker if the doctor ever needed to pull an all-nighter - like the past few days. The one at the end of the hall is the bathroom that even has a bathtub in case any of their victims needed one (no one, victim or suspect, ever took a bath in it) - but they knew Misha used that instead of the cozy shower if the doctor felt like he needed some pampering (which was constantly). Last, but not least, the door to the left was the proper clinic. It looked like all the cliches laboratories that TV Shows and movies depicted: the first half of the room is an office/laboratory and the other half is the examination room, with four beds - two on each side of the room - and some medical equipment like heart monitors, portable X-rays machines and what not. To give the impression of ‘privacy’, the office and examination is separated by a thin wall with a big door and a window for observation.

With the Chinese take out in hand, Jared knocks on the clinic door twice before opening it and peeking inside. Misha is hunched over his desk, the Alpha file in front of him and another set of papers on both hands. The Beta is so focused that he doesn’t even hear the knock and Jared can’t blame him. Everyone has their hands full and the team doctor is no exception.

Clearing his throat, Jared knocks again, just to make sure he doesn’t give his friend a scare. “Hey, Misha?” He calls when the knock goes unnoticed again, wincing when he sees the Beta jumping a little. He decides to show the take out container as a peace offering. “Sorry, didn’t want to scare you.”

“Well, you did it anyway. Can’t you knock?” Misha snaps, but Jared doesn’t take it personally. He can see the bags under the Beta’s clear blue eyes. The man is exhausted like all of them.

“I did. Twice,” Jared supplies quietly, entering the clinic and taking the Alpha’s file in front of Misha so the food container can take its place. “I brought you some food.”

The doctor sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before scrubbing his face with both hands. “Sorry, Jared, I didn’t mean to snap… Again,” Misha winces when he realises that this is the second time that he snapped at his colleague.

“I’ve been stuffed in a room full of Alphas for four days straight with little to no sleep, Misha. I’m almost immune to assholes by now,” Jared smiles, dimples popping when the Beta smiles ruefully with him.

“Thanks, man,” The doctor mutters before opening his take out. When the full smell of the Chow Mein wafts through the air, Misha moans. “Good Goddess, I was so fucking starving I didn’t even noticed.”

The Omega pats him on the shoulder before shifting his eyes to look at the unconscious Alpha occupying one of the beds. The heart monitor is quietly beeping at its lowest level, probably so Misha can focus on his work without the machine disturbing his concentration. The man’s hair is cut short now and he is clean of all the blood and dirt, but his fair skin is still badly bruised, with some butterfly band aids closing little gashes on his forehead. The Alpha’s right arm isn’t covered by the blanket and Jared can see that it’s full of stitches and bandages. “How’s he?”

Misha shrugs. “He’s still in a lot of pain. Hopefully, next time he wakes up he doesn’t try to kill one of us. We’re keeping him sedated for now,” He mutters before shoving some food in his mouth. After swallowing, he handles one of the papers to Jared. “Look at his silver poisoning levels.”

Jared’s eyes skim over the bloodwork, hazel orbs widening when he sees the numbers. “Is this real? Are you sure the lab didn’t counted it wrong?”

“I asked them to repeat the test three times to make sure.”

“But… But this is enough to kill, I don’t know, three big Alphas?” Jared is flabbergasted, eyes going to the Alpha back to the paper and then to the Alpha once again.

The doctor cocks his head to the side. “Something like this,” Misha uses his chopsticks to mix his food a little. “But check his Alpha testosterone and pheromones levels.”

Hazel eyes go a little down on the report and, once again, he’s flabbergasted. He has never seen numbers this high in his life! “I’ve never…”

“Me neither,” Misha supplies, blue eyes gazing at the Omega. “He’s a True Alpha, Jared.”

The agent’s mouth opens and closes like a gaping fish, but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even  _ know _ what to say. A True freaking Alpha? That explains how he survived for so long and how he’s still breathing even with elevated levels of silver in his system. And why, even after all of the torture he endured, his first instinct is to  _ fight _ , not to flee.

“I’m… Wow,” Jared breathes, earning a chuckle from Misha.

“Yeah, amazed, I know. I was too when I saw his bloodwork,” The Beta puts his take out down to sip at his already cold coffee, making a disgusted face. “I’ve only read about them, never met one. They are pretty damn rare.”

“I would say,” Jared mutters, hazel eyes looking at the Alpha once more. Now he understands why the man, even if he was broken and battered, looked so ferocious. ‘ _ A terrifying beast _ ’ , his inner Omega supplies once again with a quiet whine, shuddering when it remembers the feral green eye looking right at him back at the warehouse.

“Well, at least that helped us find who he is. Osric just dropped this off,” Misha handles him the other file, pointing at the papers with his chopsticks. “Handsome fellow,” He mutters before shoveling more food in his mouth.

Jared looks at the missing file and ‘handsome’ doesn’t even cover the basics. The man looking at him has sharp features and a perfectly sculpted square jaw, no bruises or scars in his somewhat tanned skin. The Omega recognizes the beautiful - ‘ _ terrifying _ ’ - green eyes with pretty little laugh lines framing them. The hair is also a dark blonde, styled and well kept, no blood, dirt or anywhere near long or dull. And those lips! So full they should be illegal. No scars here either. Jared squints a little and he brings the file closer. Freckles! Cute little freckles dots the man’s nose and cheekbones. Nothing like the scary unconscious man in the clinic bed.

“I’m quite sure the photo doesn’t do him justice, but still, there’s no need to drool over him, Jared,” Misha snorts.

The agent can feel his cheeks burning, but he just clears his throat and looks over the rest of the information. Jensen Ross Ackles, 38 years old, member of the Ackles Pack and middle child of the Pack Alpha, Alan Ackles. There’s some information about the family too: Alan, the Alpha; Donna, his Omega; Josh, Alpha big brother and last, but not least, Mackenzie, his Beta little sister. The Pack is located somewhere near Richardson, more than 200 miles away. Missing since last year and the file also has a pretty high reward for anyone who has any information about the Alpha.

“Almost half a million for any information for this guy?!” Jared looks at Misha, who doesn’t seem phased.

The doctor cocks his head again. “I think you missed the fact that he’s a True Alpha  **and** Pack heir.”

“He’s the middle child,” Jared frowns, looking at the file again. Oh, Misha’s right, at the bottom of the reward, there’s the information that Jensen is their heir.

“True Alpha,” The man shrugs once more, finishing his take out and throwing the box away.

Jared hums and his mind starts working right away. “It makes me wonder how Heyerdahl got him in the first place. A True Alpha? If that asshole tried to sedate him with his normal dosage, I don’t think it would be enough to knock Jensen out. Maybe make him dizzy and trippy, and that’s a big maybe,” The agent murmurs, looking back at Misha.

“Bad blood between siblings?” The doctor’s blue eyes widen when he thinks about that.

“It’s just one of my many guesses. Either way, Heyerdahl was not working alone. Even if he caught this Alpha by himself,  _ someone _ had to point him in Jensen’s direction and tell that psycho the hardships of knocking a True Alpha down.”

Misha sighs, rubbing his head. “To be honest, I only had the time to read his general file, not his journal with all the stuff that’s going on. First getting him to the hospital, setting his bones straight, the blood work, his missing report...” The doctor trails off and Jared doesn’t blame him for it. They’re all with their plates so damn full!

Both of them keep looking at files and bloodworks, throwing theories here and there, not really paying attention to anything else.

_ Created in a netherworld _

_ Into this realm you were hurled _

_ But scientifically misunderstood _

_ I will decode and knowledge gain _

_ Your mysteries I will explain _

_ I'll lucubrate and change you for the good _

If any of them had been paying more attention, they would notice that the low background beeping sped up a couple of notches until it simply flatlined. Only then Misha and Jared looked back with panic in his eyes, thinking that the Alpha was in danger. And he was, somehow. But they’re in danger too, because said Alpha had just ripped off all of his wires, got out of bed and plopped down heavily on the ground, arms and legs not bearing his own weight. Yet, he didn’t whimper or cried out, quite the opposite. The low snarls and growls were menacing enough to raise the hairs on the back of Jared’s head.

They were so fucked.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so very sorry for taking this long to update the story, but I've hit a pretty dense wall of writers block. The chapter that I'm working right now is pretty long (at least for this particular story standard) and the first few pages were effortless to write. But the ones that I'm working now... Not so much. I'm having a hard time writing at least a page a day. Somedays I can only write a single paragraph and I'm pretty ashamed of myself for that.
> 
> And, because of that, I'm having a hard time writing altogether, since I'm not practicing enough. English is not my main language (not even close) and, therefore, I have more difficulty to write some days than others.
> 
> Also it does not help that, despite the quarantine, my job is essencial (post office) and, therefore, my schedule didn't change that much.
> 
> But alas, here it is. This chapter was probably done even before Christmas last year, but I don't like to post a chapter without having the next one already finished. Hope you guys enjoy it!

Jared’s first agent instinct is to reach for his gun, but he knows that any sudden movement is going to trigger the Alpha to attack. The Omega can see the lean muscles shift and flex under the man’s skin, but when he raises his head, Jared’s heart stutters. The Alpha’s right eye is an unfocused milky green under the scar, and the other one is blown wide because of the sedation he was being kept under. Yet, he’s still baring his fangs, trying to get up or to secure his legs under him at least.

“I thought you said he was sedated!” Jared snaps quietly, showing his hand to the Alpha so he can see that the Omega means no threat. “Wasn’t he handcuffed to the bed too?!”

Misha is doing the same, trying to placate the man. “I just got the complete bloodwork, I never had to keep a True Alpha under sedation. And I had to get him off the cuffs to send him to the hospital for surgery. I’m sorry if I’m not used to treat victims like criminals!” He snaps right back. “We need to put him back to bed, he’s in no condition to get out, let alone get  _ up _ . His broken ribs may pierce something!” When Misha tries to step closer, the Alpha growls louder and he snaps his jaws like a wolf would do.

Jared realizes that the Alpha, even in no condition to stand and throw a punch or overpower them, is going to bite his way out of that situation. It’s the first time that he sees someone choosing to  _ fight _ over  _ flee _ again and again. Despite the sluggish movements, his blown eyes - at least the green one is blown as hell - are fleeting from Jared to Misha, Misha to the door and from the door to Jared once again. ‘ _ He’s measuring how much he’s going to fight before being free _ ’, Jared muses, astonished.

“I assume that tackling him to the ground is out of the question?” Jared asks, trying to be cheerful, but feeling the sweat running down his temple and his hands trembling slightly.

“Only if you want to be responsible for killing him if  _ anything _ goes wrong,” Misha hisses, and the sound makes the Alpha growl again. “At least you’re safe. According to Heyerdahl’s general file, he never once attacked an Omega. Manhandled and subdued them, but never fought back.”

“I ain’t very ‘Omega like’, if you haven’t noticed after all these years,” Jared mutters, hunching over himself to appear smaller and less threatening. “Don’t we have that old tranquilizing gun in the storage?”

“We do, but it’s been so long since the last time we had to use it that I don’t know where it’s stashed,” It’s been years since they had to deal with a feral Werewolf inside the clinic that actually required the use of the tranq gun, and he didn’t remained feral for long either. After a few days sedated, the Alpha recovered enough to be considered sane again. The  _ WSU _ agents did carry them in their cars though.

“I have one in my car then. The keys are in my front pocket.”

Misha gasps. “I’m not going to leave you alone with him, Jared!”

The agent glares over his shoulder at the Beta. “You said it yourself, I’m safe. I’m an Omega, he isn’t going to attack me! Just go, I’ll be okay.”

Jared can see that Misha is torn up about leaving him alone with a crazy Alpha, but eventually the blue eyed doctor approaches him slowly, patting his front pockets. The man is still on the ground, growling and eyeing them suspiciously, ready to pounce at any time if needed. When Misha has the keys in hand, he backs out slowly.

“I’ll be back quickly, Jared. Don’t do anything stupid,” The doctor advises.

“I won’t. Just… Lock the door when you leave, just in case,” Jared asks, frowning. When he sees that Misha is about to change his mind, he’s quick to amend. “You said it yourself, I can’t tackle him to the ground, so if he tries to escape, I’ll feel better knowing that he can’t open the door.”

“Ok… Ok,” Misha breathes, glancing one last time at both of them before quietly leaving the clinic.

Taking a deep breath, Jared looks back at the Alpha, both hands still raised to show him that he means no threat. It’s no use, apparently, because said Alpha is still growling in a low raspy and feral tone.

“Easy there, I’m not going to hurt you,” The Omega whispers, voice low and soothing. It seems to do the trick, but the man is still tense enough. Until he sags completely, dropping down and letting out a pitiful groan, his body clearly having enough of holding his weight - kind of. The sound makes Jared move without thinking, hand reaching out to help the Alpha, and that’s a mistake. Before long, Jared sees himself being pulled down and rolled over, with calloused hands around his neck and a snarling mouth right on his face. The agent can feel some of Jensen’s bones popping, knowing that the Alpha is in just as much danger as he is right now. That’s why Jared keeps his hands to himself, because despite the panic, the Alpha is not using all of his strength, otherwise his neck would’ve snapped by now. Maybe. Still, it is enough to cut some of the air to his lungs, making it real hard for Jared not to fight back.

Grunting, the agent looks up at the snarling Alpha, seeing nothing but sheer will to be free. “Hey, hey… Easy,” Jared rasps, but then he realizes that he’s still treating him like a frightened animal, not like the man he really is. It’s insulting to treat a Werewolf like a beast - even if part of them  _ are _ animals -, so he tries a different approach. “C’mon, Jensen, you’re okay. You’re safe, man,” Jared croaks and there’s a flicker of recognition in the Alpha’s eyes. Goddess knows when was the last time he heard his own name. “Jensen? Jensen, it’s alright. You’re not there anymore, you’re safe.”

The pressure on his neck lessens, but Jared doesn’t make any move to stand. Jensen reeks of violence and desperation - and, of course, antiseptic -, yet, the Omega feels the need to soothe and calm the Alpha down. With slow movements, the younger man lays his hands gently on Jensen’s wrists, thumb brushing tenderly on the top of the bandages covering his wrists. Intense green eyes focus on Jared’s hands and a confused frown marks the Alpha’s scarred face.

“Jensen?” The man’s green eyes focus on his face now. “Can you let me go? If Misha sees you on top of me like that, he’s going to use a tranq gun on you and I don’t want that,” Jensen doesn’t seem to understand that, still frowning, but no snarling or snapping of fangs. Good. “You’re hurting, we need to get you back to bed,” He tries again, voice still soft and gentle. Nothing. But the calloused fingers around his neck vanishes and the man sits his butt on Jared’s stomach, still straddling him with a hunched posture.

Jared props himself on his elbows, but that makes Jensen growl in a warning. The agent tries to act nonchalantly, even if his beating heart is not really subtle, and he fake-scoffs. “Jensen, c’mon, I’m not going to hurt you. You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep going like this!” The snarl stops again, but nothing else. Jared sighs and tentatively lays his hands on the Alpha’s skinny hips over the scrubs. The man lets him, frown deepening and a low hiss escaping his lips. At first, Jared thinks it’s another way of vocalizing the Alpha’s threats, but he soon realizes that is a hiss of pain, Jensen’s skin probably too sensitive because of silver burns. The Omega whimpers quietly, closing his eyes before shushing the man. “ ‘s okay, Jensen. You’re okay, now. I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore.” With a grunt, Jared raises his torso slowly, to show Jensen that he’s not going to attack him.

When the agent opens his eyes again, he’s face to face with the scarred Alpha. He’s not snarling, only frowning at him, but his fangs are still out and Jared wonders if the man realises that. The Alpha staring back at him does not resemble that missing photo, all scars, snarls and feral looks, but he’s still stunning - ‘ _ and terrifying _ ’, the quiet inner Omega supplies.

He can see Jensen’s nostrils flaring, and to be fair the Alpha is not doing a subtle job of sniffing him, but the frown deepens once more, and he tries again. Jared is not really surprised, Werewolves that were poisoned by silver usually lose their high sense of hearing and smell. “I know, buddy, it sucks,” Jared says sympathetically, even if Jensen does not understand his words, or the feelings behind them.

But the Alpha is not done with him. He nuzzles Jared’s neck, making the Omega tense with the touch so close to his jugular, and tries again and again. The air blowing softly on Jared’s skin and the nose skimming up and down his neck makes him shiver, but the agent lets Jensen have his way. The younger man  _ does not _ want to trigger another violent reaction by denying him something, so he tries to relax as much as possible.

They stay like that for Goddess knows how long until the door bursts open, Misha aiming the tranquilizing gun at the Alpha, blue eyes wide and terrified when he sees the man with his face buried in Jared’s neck. Before he can squeeze the trigger, though, something unexpected happens.

Instead of biting Jared’s neck as a knee jerk response to the sudden noise, the Alpha crouches in front of him, snarling again and backing him up against the bed, shielding him from Misha. Jared can see his arms and legs trembling with the effort and the agent knows that Jensen is two steps away from passing out just like he did back in the warehouse. Still, he doesn’t want to see him shot at, even if it’s just a tranq gun.

“Misha, wait!” Jared shouts, getting up so fast that he gets dizzy with it. Jensen snarls at him, snapping his jaws, but not in a menacing way, more in a ‘ _ stay down _ ’ way. Misha falters, hands going down slowly.

“Jared?” The doctor is clearly confused.

The younger man sighs, glad that Misha didn’t have the same agent training. He himself would’ve shot Jensen if the roles were reversed. Still, Jensen is tense and ready to attack at any moment.

“Jensen?” Jared calls softly, but the Alpha does not listen. “Hey”, The agent lays his hand gently on the man’s shoulder, and that gets him a reaction. A bad one.

Jensen jerks back hard, shoving Jared against the bed, green eye flaring menacingly. The sudden move makes the Alpha’s shoulder pop and he howls in pain, clutching his arm against his chest, dropping down on his other shoulder, a little sideways. The wild streak comes back to his face and he’s about to pounce again. Jared backs away against the bed, wide eyes showing how really scared he is right now and Misha raises the tranq gun once more, ready to squeeze the trigger. But before anyone can make any move, Jensen’s eyes roll back and he goes limp on the ground, finally blacking out.

Jared’s chest is still heaving with the long gasps he’s taking, hands shaking badly. In all of his years working for the  _ WSU _ he never felt more threatened or scared as he was in this moment. This man, this  _ beast _ , still fought like hell even when all they wanted to do was help him.

“Jared! Are you okay?” Misha approaches him carefully, tranquilizing gun still pointed at the Alpha, even if his hands are quivering so much that Jared almost scolds him for his sloppy aiming, but he’s too scared himself to say anything. Taking the silence as a bad sign, Misha quickly takes his chin between his fingers and raises the Omega’s head, turning this way and that way. “Did he bite you? Are you hurt?!”

“Wha-?” Jared answers a little lost, but he ends up shaking his head. “No, no! He didn’t hurt me, he was trying to scent me,” The agent rubs the back of his head, where he hit the bed when Jensen shoved him. “I’ll need some aspirin for my headache, though.”

Misha eyes him suspiciously. “I think you hit more than your head, Jared. Are you  _ sure _ he didn’t hurt you anywhere? He was all over you, man!”

Jared rolls his eyes before getting up, wincing with the slight pain. “I’m sure, Mish. You’re right, he doesn’t hurt Omegas, but…” He looks at the Alpha sprawled on his belly, out cold. “How the hell does he know I’m an Omega if he can’t scent me? I’m not bragging, but I can easily be mistaken for an Alpha. Wouldn’t be the first time either.”

The doctor shrugs. “Maybe it’s a True Alpha thing? I don’t know,” It’s his best bet, but there are so many questions without answers that Misha doesn’t want to ask himself too many things that he does not know the final answer. He’s sure he’ll come up empty until this case is over. “C’mon, help me get him to bed again, will you?”

Jared seems skeptical “Uh… Are you sure he’s not going to go apeshit crazy on us again?”

Misha blinks twice before going to the Alpha, kneeling by his side and taking his pulse. After a couple of silent moments, he nods. “Yeah, he’s pretty out. In fact, if I don’t put him back on fluids, he’ll crash soon.”

“Fine,” Jared huffs, approaching the man carefully. He hopes that Misha is damn right this time!

* * *

After pulling  _ another _ all nighter, Jim pinches his nose while he looks at the file in front of him. A Pack Heir, really? Now he’s not so surprised about Osric reluctance in handing the file over. The Beta probably knew how much Beaver had on his plate already and Osric’s worry about his welfare - not only the petite Beta, but all of his unit worries about him -, makes the Alpha think about treating everyone with beers and dinners when this is all over. And maybe think about retirement, because this case? This case will give him nightmares for the rest of his long life, and he doesn’t need others to pile up along the way. Either way, their loyalty for him is pretty damn touching and they deserve a break after the case is wrapped up.

The agent checks his watch and thinks that 7:12 a.m. is a pretty reasonable hour to call the Ackles’ Pack Alpha. There’s a cellphone number attached to the missing file, Alpha Ackles probably. Jim dials the number on his own cellphone, but frowns when the automatic voice tells him that the number does not exist. Weird. He tries again, maybe he himself had punched one wrong button. Same message. Huh.  _ ‘Maybe someone typed it wrong on the file’ _ , he thinks, before booting his computer to search for the Ackles’ Pack Office number on the internet. After some digging, Beaver finds the Pack Office phone number, writing it down on the missing file in case he needs it later.

It rings, and rings, and rings some more, until it eventually drops.  _ ‘This is getting worse…’ _ , the Alpha thinks, rubbing his beard for a moment. Pack Offices usually had someone to answer the phone, even during pack meetings. His dark blue eyes land on the Alpha survivor’s file from the warehouse and he sighs. This was way bigger than a lunatic with some scalpels and pliers, it seemed. And Jim felt for the younger Alpha. His instinct was telling him that Heyerdahl crossing with a True Alpha like Ackles was no coincidence at all. Either way, he was going to give himself a couple of minutes to get downstairs, make a good cup of hot coffee - or sludge, but after four days he isn’t really picky about the office coffee anymore - and try again.

After all, even Werewolves need to use the restroom or take a break, right? It has to be it.

* * *

The phone is ringing when Danneel arrives at the Pack Office, but she takes her sweet time unlocking the door, hanging her coat and strolling around until she reaches her desk. By then, the ringing has stopped and she couldn’t care less. Two years ago she would’ve unlocked the door as fast as possible and tripped over her own feet to catch the phone, but now… Now she doesn’t care anymore. She doesn’t even glance at the caller ID to call whoever it was back. Quite the opposite. Danneel ignores the phone completely and goes to make herself a cup of good coffee, checking her own cellphone for messages or something, stalling as much as possible. Corin is not even here yet, probably still at the Pack Hall for the council meeting or something. Again, she doesn’t care. She’s actually glad for the alone time, without the Alpha breathing on her neck and watching for every little movement that she made. Not that the Beta blamed him, he was right in not trusting her. It went both ways, actually.

After contemplating for another couple of minutes while drinking her coffee, Danneel sits at her table, boots her computer and enjoys the silent morning to just  _ be _ . Until the phone starts ringing again, making her jump a little. Sighing and mustering all of her politeness, she finally answers the phone, trying to be as cheerful as possible.

“Pillegi Pack, this is Danneel Harris, how can I help?” The Beta thinks that she nailed the cheerful tone. There’s silence on the other line and she waits. The man clears his throat after a couple of beats.

“Um…” The voice is gruff and a little unsure. “I’m sorry, I thought I had called the Ackles Pack…”

Danneel’s heart aches when she hears that, not for the first time. Many had called hoping to talk to the Ackles Pack ever since that fateful day and, every time someone thinks that they’re still under the name of Alpha Ackles, her heart bleeds. The Beta’s breath hitches quietly and she’s so damn glad that Corin is nowhere near right now because she doesn’t know how much of this she can take.

Still, Daneel shakes her head - even if the man on the other side can’t see - and tries for cheerful again, but this time she fails  _ hard _ . “We used to be the Ackles Pack,” The answer is quiet and a little wet. She is not quite sure why this is affecting her so much right now, it’s not the first time she needs to inform someone about the change of the Pack’s name, although that mishap was getting rarer and rarer. Maybe it was because last month she got piss drunk on Jensen’s birthday with Steve and Chris and they all came to the same conclusion: the Alpha was probably dead somewhere and no one would ever find him.

The male voice speaks again, shaking Danneel out of her reverie. “I see. May I ask what happened to the Ackles family? I need to speak with them.”

The Beta frowns a little. “May I ask who’s speaking?” She throws the question back.

“Of course, forgive my manners. This is Jim Beaver, I work for the  _ Werewolf Special Unit _ here in Austin.”

The  _ Werewolf Special Unit _ … Hope and dread and fear swell up inside Danneel’s chest, making her gasp and grip the receiver a little too tight. Her hands are shaking and she’s so damn scared of asking, but she needs to know. They all need to know! Yet, the Beta can’t seem to make her own mouth work, lips opening and closing like a fish out of water.

The man talking to her seems to be a little defensive now. “I’m afraid this only concerns the Ackles fami-”

“Is it Jensen?!” Danneel blurts out, feeling her eyes well up quickly. “Did you find him?! Please,  _ please _ is he alive?!” She doesn’t mind begging.

“I…” Beaver starts, not knowing how to proceed and Danneel seems to understand.

Trying to reign her feelings - and tears -, she clears up her throat, looking around to make  _ sure _ Nemec is nowhere near the Office. “This isn’t safe,” She whispers. “The Ackles are not safe. Can I- _ Please _ can I have your number so I can call you tonight, sir?!”

The agent stays silent for a beat or two, probably pondering his next move and Danneel cannot blame him. If the roles were reversed and she knew  _ anything _ about Jensen’s whereabouts, she would not say a damn thing either. But the man seems to have a little faith still, because he sighs and mutters a cellphone number. Danneel writes it down and shoves the paper deep down inside her front pant pocket. Reigning her shaking hands, Danneel takes a deep breath.

“Jim Beaver, right?” When the man mutters an assent, she barrels on. “Can you just… Is he alive? Can you tell me that?  _ Please _ ?”

There’s a beat or two of silence before Beaver speaks again. “He is… “ It seems like he wants to search for the right word for it. “Breathing. Yes.” He finishes.

Part of Danneel doesn’t know how to process the information, but Jensen is  _ breathing _ . He is  _ alive _ . A sob is wrenched from deep inside her chest, making the Beta bite the back of her hand to contain some of the bittersweet happiness from bubbling out. Jensen is alive and this is all that matters.

“Thank you, thank you so,  _ so much _ …!” Danneel babbles mindlessly for a couple of moments, knowing that she’s almost weeping with relief, but she doesn’t care. Jensen is  _ alive _ !

But it appears that Jim is not done yet. “Miss?” He clears his throat, uncomfortable. “Are you okay?”

Oh crap. Nemec is going to be at the office soon, she can’t be seen crying like that. Now it’s her turn to clear her throat and wipe her eyes and cheeks. “Yeah, yes. I-I need to go now. He can’t- _ They _ can’t know about any of this. Please, don’t call this Pack again. I’ll call you tonight!” She is quick to hang out, sitting quietly at her desk for two or three seconds. But the Beta soon springs out of her seat, rushing to the bathroom with her makeup to cover her red and slightly puffy eyes as much as she can so she doesn’t raise any suspicion. And right on time, because as soon as she sits at her desk again, Corin Nemec strolls in.

“Good morning, sunshine,” The Alpha purrs, smirking at Danneel.

The Beta doesn’t even pretend to smile anymore, because honestly? Every day the young woman is closer and closer to puking all over the office with Nemec’s pet names and unwanted advances. It’s not any secret that Danneel doesn’t like him, but the man has the gall to try every once in a while to  _ woo _ her. It’s getting pretty tiring and annoying and won’t be long before Danneel claws his eyes out. Or his dick. She can’t really decide yet.

But Jensen is alive! She’ll endure a little more of Nemec’s antics if that means that the true heir of the Ackles Pack can finally come home.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally did it! Omg, it was so hard writing the next chapter! I was starting to get anxious about it, and feeling bad about not being able to write anything at all for WEEKS, but that chapter is done and gone, so here's the next piece of my work!
> 
> I hope that the next one is easier to write because the story will finally pick up its pace (I think), so... Bear with me, please.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy it!

Despite Misha being in a hurry to read the Alpha’s journal, he didn’t exactly have the time. When he had found it, the Beta had to rush to the hospital because the nurse in charge for the Alpha’s X-rays and more superficial exams showed him that the man needed to have surgery as soon as possible. The poor thing had so many broken bones that he gave up counting after the second dozen. And so Misha just threw everything aside to tend to the unconscious wolf. Four days later, a shit ton of caffeine and a very close call with said Alpha’s feral temper, Misha can say that he’s truly burnt out. Yet, here he is, tending the unconscious man once again and, this time, making sure that he’s strapped to the bed, but not too tight. Jensen still has some range of movement, but not enough to reach for anything on the bedside table or, the most common case scenario, strangle someone. The doctor learned from his mistakes.

“Mish?”

The voice makes him jump, almost stabbing the poor Alpha with the needle and missing the vein by a mile. He turns around, glaring at Jared’s direction. The Omega has the decency of looking sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry, I thought you heard me when I called the first time,” The agent apologises, but he gestures at the lab table. “Do you want me to read his whole file while you get some rest? You can’t go on like this much longer, man,” Jared offers, the frown on his handsome face making pretty evident how he’s worried about his friend's welfare. The agent had some rest, even if it was fleeting and not really fulfilling, but it was something. Misha’s eyes were probably burning by now with the lack of sleep. Werewolves could be more resistant and resilient than humans, but they did have a limit. Maybe more close to the human’s limits than they realise.

“I need to keep an eye on him,” Misha answers, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands quite forcefully to chase out his burning eyelids.

Jared comes closer, patting the doctor’s shoulder gently. “He’s sedated now, right?”

“Yeah? I mean, as much as I think is enough to keep him down without doing any more harm. I was just going to get him back on fluids.”

Jared keeps going. “And you just checked him out, right? No more damage than before?”

“Uh-hu.” Misha nods, still confused.

The Omega shrugs. “Then I can keep an eye on him for a couple of hours. And while I’m at it, I could use some reading,” Jared looks at the lab table again, frowning. “I would like a much lighter reading, but I guess we can’t be too picky right now.”

The doctor facepalms. “Oh shit, you’re right. If there’s any proof of any associate, it’s in that journal. No way that madman was able to grab Ackles on his own. I’m so _ stupid _,” Misha berates himself and yes, he may be right, but no one can fault him for honoring his medical vows in the first place. Jared certainly doesn’t.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re not an agent, Misha, you’re a _ doctor _. You did your job,” Jared reminds him, nodding to the unconscious Alpha on the bed.

But the Beta is not easily consoled. “It’s not enough, Jared! If there’s someone like Heyerdahl out there, then I didn’t do a good enough job! If there’s another madman, then there’s another Werewolf hurt or _ dead _ or _ wishing to be dead _!” Misha makes a beeline for the file, but Jared holds his bicep.

“Do you want to make another mistake?” Now it’s not the friendly Omega, it’s the experienced agent speaking. “When was the last time you had some sleep?”

“Does it matter?” Misha asks defensively.

Jared only nods. “It does. If you can’t keep your eyes open or make the right connection with your brain almost shutting down, you’ll make another mistake, Misha. You’ll leave something important out. Hell, even I, who had some naps here and there, can leave something out during this case and I’ll berate myself after that, but _ now _ is not the time for it,” Jared eases his lecture by softening his features. “Go get some sleep, Misha. You’ll be of no help if you can barely keep your eyes open.”

“But I-” Misha’s brows furrow helplessly, but he ends up sighing and dropping his shoulders. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I’m behaving like a child.”

Jared only smiles gently. “Working in a room full of Alphas, remember? You’re fine,” He pats his colleague on the shoulder. “But I expect some nice cold beer when this is all over. Your treat.”

The doctor huffs a small laugh at that. “Yeah, yeah,” Misha only turns around to put the Alpha back on fluids, like he was doing before. After that, he still fumbles with sheets and monitors and what not until Jared clears his throat, knowing that the Beta is just stalling. With another sigh, Misha turns back to his friend. “Call if you need me, okay? I mean it.”

“You got it, man. Go get some shut eye.”

Misha looks one last time to the man lying on the clinic’s bed before shuffling out of the office, closing the door quietly behind him.

The place is almost eerily still, safe for the monitor beeping, and Jared lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. The younger man knows that he should read the Alpha’s file and journal right away, but something makes him approach the bed carefully first. Even under sedation, Jensen seems tense, but also a little worn out. He looks nothing like the carefree photo of his missing file, all laugh lines and mirthful eyes. This man looks… Jaded. Always waiting for a fight or expecting violence. It makes Jared’s heart bleed for him. Which should be weird, considering how many times the agent had to deal with battered victims and never got that kind of heartbreak. Jared only feels sympathy and the need to protect this Alpha at all costs. Before Jared can even stop himself, he thumbs Jensen’s scar under his eye ever so gently, just a butterfly touch, really.

And he remembers having a really bad nightmare about having his face slashed like that a couple of months ago. The memory makes Jared pull his hand back as if Jensen’s skin was burning and his stomach rolls uncomfortably. He can imagine just an inkling of pain that Jensen went through and it makes him sick of his stomach.

After looking at the Alpha one last time, Jared walks to the lab table and sighs deeply, looking over the files and journal scattering the surface. Stalling was not going to make his job easier, so the agent just sucks it up and picks the damn file to read it.

The first thing that Jared sees on the file is a photo of Jensen shackled up and snarling, features angry and wolfish, but the thick silver collar prevents his shifting. If the shackles are the same he saw when he met the Alpha, it’s certainly helping keeping the wolf at bay too. A pair of beautiful green eyes are throwing death stares at the one taking the picture - Heyerdahl, presumably - and if looks could kill, the madman would be a deadman by now. If only... 

Nothing stands out on that page. There’s Jensen’s general information - height, weight, eye color, hair color, a complete bloodwork with another set of general info and the Alpha’s hormone levels highlighted. Just a twisted chart.

However, the next page… That was… He couldn’t even imagine what that poor wolf went through.

It’s just a shortened version of what Jensen suffered during his captivity with dates and timestamps, and Jared realizes that the other man was missing for more than a year, making his breath hitch. Details of what Jensen could or couldn’t endure, how much he could bear before passing out, if he, as a True Alpha, could regenerate something besides teeth and nails (he couldn’t, the little notes of how many fingers Heyerdahl took were proof enough) and, the most important part was if Jensen could follow commands. If normal Alphas were stubborn, Jared could imagine how the True Alpha reacted to said ‘training’. There’s also highlighted notes about how Omegas snapped and lashed out on him and Jensen never raised a hand to hurt them, only enough to subdue or manhandle the most stubborn ones into submission. That’s why Misha knew he wouldn’t hurt him, the doctor only had enough presence of mind to read the highlighted parts. Jared can’t blame him, the Beta’s brain was practically shutting down already.

When Jared finishes the file, he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. If reading the short version of all that was done to Jensen was disheartening, he can’t imagine what will be when he reads the thick journal. Still, the agent has a job to do and ends up picking said journal, leaning back on the chair to be a little more comfortable.

Before he can open the journal, Jensen groans on the bed and Jared raises his eyes, getting up and looking at the Alpha. The man seems asleep, but his hands are twitching and his forehead has some perspiration, making the agent frown a little, getting closer to the bed carefully. The groan turns into a whimper next and the Omega touches Jensen’s scarred cheek without even thinking, shushing him gently. When Jared realises what he’s doing, he’s about to pull his hand back but the Alpha barely leans into the touch, calming down a little.

It’s heartwarming and heart wrenching at the same time, making the Omega feel very confused about himself. Why does he keep trying to comfort this Alpha in particular? Never in his life did he had such urges of touching and cooing and trying to calm another Alpha down - not at work, at least -, but maybe it was because Jensen’s a True Alpha, making his Omega stand out more. Yeah, that’s got to be it.

When Jensen seems calmer, Jared goes back to the lab table, not before glancing one more time at the Alpha. He sits down and picks the journal up, taking a deep breath before opening it. The front page has the same photo of Jensen hanging up and snarling, the same record about height, weight and general information that was in the other file. Jared turns the page and groans when he sees that this is a pretty detailed diary of Heyerdahl’s. He knows he’s going to have worse nightmares for months to come.

After rubbing his eyes one last time, Jared turns the page and starts his heavy reading. But the first few sentences makes him grab the phone, dialing Beaver’s phone desk terminal. It rings three times before the gruff voice of the older Alpha is heard.

“_What?_”

Jared notes that his boss is tired out of his mind, but this simply cannot wait. “Heyerdahl had help to capture Jensen,” He rushes out, wide eyes reading the first sentences over and over again.

“_Come again?_” Beaver asks unsure.

“I just picked up his journal to read, Misha was too tired to do it himself. One of the first sentences written here is _ ‘I found this one right where that man said the Alpha would be. He’s huge, biggest wolf I’ve ever seen,’ _ yadda yadda…” Jared mutters, ignoring the rambling about Jensen’s image before picking up the reading again. _ “ ‘The man also mentioned that common sedation wouldn’t work. I increased the dose but the wolf didn’t even trip. Had to use a flash bomb to disorient him and shoot him twice more. Despite being down and clearly sluggish, the wolf insists in snapping his jaws and growling. He’s going to be one excellent experiment, indeed!’ _. Someone put Jensen right in Heyerdahl’s path on purpose,” Jared finishes, carding his fingers through his hair.

Beaver curses under his breath. “_Fuck, this is bad. This means that someone inside his own Pack sold him out. What Ms. Harris said was true then._”

Jared gets a little lost. “Who?”

“_The Pack secretary. I called them a little while ago to warn we’ve found their lost heir, but she was adamant that I kept that information to myself and to not call the Pack again. Told me the Ackles’ weren’t safe and she would call me tonight for more details._”

“You believed her?”

Beaver huffs. “_I trusted my gut. She seemed sincere and really moved when I told her that the boy was alive. Breathing, at least,_” He corrects himself. After a while, Beaver continues. “_Does Heyerdahl mention this guy’s name or anything?_”

The agent skims the first few pages, trying to catch any names without focusing too much on the rest of the information. “There’s nothing standing out, I just started to read the journal. But I don’t think that he was this careless. Heyerdahl stayed out of the radar for quite some time already, I don’t think he would blatantly leave any information this big behind.”

The _ WSU _ directors sighs heavily. “_A’ight, I’ll call Morgan to set up another interrogation with Heyerdahl then, see what he tells us._”

“Okay,” Jared agrees, rubbing his eyes with his thumbs. “I’ll stay down here to finish the journal if it’s okay with you. Misha is taking a nap and he doesn’t want to leave the Alpha alone. I agreed to keep an eye on Jensen while he sleeps.”

“_No problem. I’ll inform the others that you’ll help them later with the rest of the files. Keep me posted if you find anything else._”

“Thanks, boss. Don’t worry about it.”

There’s a quiet click and the line goes dead when Beaver finishes the call. Jared puts the receiver down too, sighing and looking back at the sleeping Alpha, eyes following the long lines of scars over arms and face. “We’ll figure out, Jensen. Don’t worry,” The Omega promises quietly, even if he doesn’t know why he’s doing all that. But one thing Jared knows for certain, deep in his gut: he won’t let anyone hurt Jensen ever again. Not like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are love. <3  
And pie.


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